


What's In A Name

by Arithra



Series: Memoirs of the Master of Death [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Cruciatus Curse (Harry Potter), Established Relationship, Horcruxes, M/M, Mental Instability, going bad, the Rise of Lord Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:35:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27149500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithra/pseuds/Arithra
Summary: Harold knew that that the time would come sooner or later. Tom Riddle was disappearing and there was nothing he could do.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Memoirs of the Master of Death [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/225602
Kudos: 56





	What's In A Name

**Author's Note:**

> Set before the First War wit Voldemort officially begins.

“Tom?”

The man’s eyes flashed an angry red and before Harold could blink a wand was leveled at him and then the pain began.

“Crucio.”

Harold screamed taken by surprise and writhed on the floor in agony. His bones felt like they were breaking again and again, a thousand hot needles pierced his skin and he could taste blood in the back of his throat.

Finally, the curse ended and he lay panting on the floor his arms and legs still shaking from the aftereffect of the cruciatus curse.

“Don’t call me by that filthy muggle name.”

Tom, no Lord Voldemort’s voice was high and cold, and for a moment Harold was fourteen again and chained to a gravestone in the middle of the graveyard in little Hangelton.

But the soft carpet underneath him reminded him that it was not the chase, he was in his own living room and he hadn’t been fourteen for a long time.

Harold forced himself to look up at his tormentor and he swallowed when he saw the look of delight on the other man’s face. The dark wizard’s cheeks were flushed and he panting, his eyes observing Harold’s shacking limps. Trying to get into a sitting position Harold realized that either he his pain tolerance had been lowered considerably or the curse had been more powerful than he remembered it.

It had been years since he had last been held under the torture curse. The yew wand was leveled on him again, and this time Harold was not taken by surprise. When the curse left Voldemort’s lips he threw himself to the side, barely avoiding the beam of light.

Voldemort laughed and continued to chase him through, laying waste to the living room.

It could have been seconds, minutes or hours later, that Harold found himself pinned on the broken sofa, blood, dripping from cuts along his arms and his head, running down his face.

He blinked, trying to clear his sight and keep the blood from running into his eyes, without letting Voldemort out of his view. That did not pose any problem at all, as Voldemort couched down before him, smirking deviously before waving his wand again.

Harold’s arms were jerked upwards and pinned there by an invisible force. His wrists and shoulders hurt from the harsh tug they had endured and he winced, causing Voldemort to laugh.

“Tom, stop it!”

That had definitely been the wrong thing to say, as he was once again held under the cruciatus curse. It seemed even worse than the last one, since his movements were partly restrained and he found himself tugging on his restrains. Blood dripped down from his sore wrist landing on his forehead.

Harold took a shaky breath and looked towards the dark lord who was still crouching across from him. The yew wand was still pointed in his direction.

“You will have to learn your lesson. My name is Lord Voldemort and you will address me as such.”

The high voice sent shivers down his spine. But unlike the ones that Toms usual voice cause, these were not pleasant shivers.

Harold looked into the deep red eyes and swallowed, as he realized that there seemed to be nothing of Tom Riddle left in them.

“Yes my lord.”

The dark wizard gave a pleased hum, and used his wand to trace Harold jawline.

“Very good, make sure you don’t forget it.” Then the wand left his face and was pressed against his throat. “This should serve as a reminder enough.”

And again the Crucio made him writher in agony.

The Dark Lord Voldemort laughed and Harold felt as if something inside of him was breaking.

Then as suddenly as it started the cursing stopped and Harold looked up from the wand pressed against his throat to meet the eyes of Tom Riddle who was staring at him with horror filled eyes.

“Harold?”

Toms voice was unsure and his eyes flickered through the room, taking in the damage done to their surroundings and Harold himself. Finally, the dark lords gaze landed on the wand that he still pressed against his lover’s throat.

Immediately he let go of it as if burned and the slim wood clattered to the ground.

Harold let out a long breath he had not realized he had been holding. When he spoke his voice was raspy.

“Yes my lord?”

Tom actually flinched and took a few steps back, giving Harold room to sit up.

“I… What did I do? I don’t remember…”

A wry chuckle escaped Harold and he made a sweeping gesture with his hand.

“I think that much is obvious, my Lord.”

Again, the other wizard flinched.

“Why are you calling me that?”

He sounded strangely unsure, but Harold hurt too much to take the edge out of his words, he had warned the other man that the creation of multiple Horcruxes might have side effects.

“Because you ordered me to do so my lord. I presumed to be allowed to use your given name and was suitably punished.”

There was silence for a moment, and he could see in Toms eyes as the other man realized what had happened when he lost what little color he had on his face.

“I… cursed you.”

“Yes my lord.”

Tom opened his mouth as if to say something, but then he closed it again, sinking down onto the ground in front of Harold and making it possible for the two of them to look at each other without Harold having to look up.

“Say my name.”

It was meant to be an order, but it came out more like a request. Harold knew what Tom wanted him to do, but he was still shaking and did not feel like sparing the other man’s feelings.

“My lord Voldemort.”

This time Tom did not simply flinch, he jerked back as if he had been slapped.

“Not that name…”

Harold sighted and leaned against the broken sofa, when he spoke his voice was bare of any emotion. Cold as a glacier.

“Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

Tom nodded.

“And you are allowed to call me Tom.”

Harold chuckled.

“Are you sure my lord? I would not wish to displease you again.”

“Yes I’m sure. And I’m…”

But the dark wizard did not finish his sentence and Harold knew that he never would, because neither Tom Riddle nor Lord Voldemort would ever apologize.

Harold nodded and carefully tried to stand up. His knees were shaking from the trying to carry his own body weight and his arms were not much help either.

It was Tom who pulled him to his feet again and put his arms around his shoulders to steady him.

He did not look at Harold though and the other man knew that he was troubled by what had happened. A small sliver of hope rose to the surface, telling him, that maybe Tom would come to his senses and everything would finally be alright, but he squashed it down viciously. Harold knew better after all, he had seen what the man he loved would become and had already accepted, that there was no way for him to stop the flow of time.


End file.
